


detrimentum | TommyInnit & Technoblade

by AlexandraMariaAnna



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Sleepy Boys Inc, Technoblade - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, mcyt, tommyinnit - Fandom
Genre: ANYWAYS IM GONNA LOG THRU THE PAIN, Gen, I AM ON MY KNEES, SBI ARC, THATS ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS, TOMMY JUST DONT CHANGE YOUR SKIN, YOU GOTTA MATCH WITH YOUR FAMILY, as always, but damn, hurt comfort i guess, im gonna speedrun this fanfic so i don't guarantee quality, it's currently 11 pm as i'm starting this, lets goo, not a native speaker warning, oh my god my third eye is open, oh my god this stream, points at tam, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandraMariaAnna/pseuds/AlexandraMariaAnna
Summary: it sounds all too familiar to tommy.his stomach flips upside down.===thank you twitter user tamatojam for enabling me, this stream left me in shambles.TW// Gaslighting, mention of suicide attempt
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit
Comments: 36
Kudos: 1097
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Dream SMP Fics, mcyt favorites





	1. Detrimentum

**Author's Note:**

> Happens right after the 15.12.2020 Dream SMP stream.  
> Things will stray from cannon (or not, we will see tomorrow)

It was comfortable under Techno’s little shack. Tommy didn’t have to worry about food, water, weapons, or such; he lived in symbiosis with the actual owners of the house, with him providing cheer, as he said. It didn’t matter if they knew or did not know that he was living under them – he wouldn’t be staying there forever, and this was only a temporary state for him. A big man deserves a big house, not a basement under a basement, where the sun never reaches and the only sound that lulls him to sleep is the sound of snow falling outside and groaning of mobs. 

Still, he was content with where he was for now; away from Dream, away from ruins of Logstedshire and the tower that was supposed to be his end, now serving as a reminder of the moment the light in his eyes nearly flickered out. The room was small, smelled of musk and stale water, but it was home for now, and it lulled him to sleep every night as he shivered under a thin blanket he stole from one of Techno’s many chests. The winter biome was unforgiving, and being underground wasn’t exactly helping his case. 

The coat his brother wore didn’t give him much warmth during evenings either; it still reeked of lavender that made his eyes sting with tears when it reached his nose. He hated the scent, the same one that Phil’s wardrobe back at his family home had, one that he used to cover himself with when he hid between winter clothes as he played hide-and-seek with his brothers. He never won, but he laughed as Techno threw him over his shoulder, mint mixing with lavender as he spun him around like an airplane. No matter how many times he washed it, the scent remained, and it hurt him every time he noticed it was there, grabbing at his heart and squeezing his chest until he forgot how to breathe. 

Thus, the coat remained, and the blanket stayed also, a second shell over a broken child who hid from the night. 

Things were easy underneath the base, and Tommy appreciated the peace and quiet for once, though something in the back of his mind screamed for him to give in to his animal instinct and search for a herd. He was his own big man, big man on an adventure to get his discs back, a lad on tour- 

_No_. Not a lad on tour. The words left a sour aftertaste in his mouth, and he pushed it to the very back of his memory, pressing it against a familiar smile, cashmere sweater, and lavender. 

Then, one day, as Tommy was in the middle of sharpening his borrowed sword, the dirt wall to his right collapsed. At first he thought it was a violent mob, and he jumped to his feet, instinctively switching into an attack position, one that Techno taught him when he was just a little baby, gripping sticks and hitting sacks of flour. He listened in for a hiss or a groan, but the dirt remained silent, almost mournful in its requiem, the dust cloud slowly settling. 

Then, a flash of pink, a sound of pickaxe dropping to the ground, and the smell of mint pushing its way through the musk of the soil. Tommy’s brain went into a state of panic. 

“Tommy?” the man spoke, and he was now fully in view, stepping over the small mound of dirt in his way, looking around the den with disbelief in his eyes. “What are you-” he spoke, and Tommy’s muscles tensed, his heart hammering against his chest like the bell that stood proudly in the corner of the room. “Tommy we looked for you, but you-”   
“It’s not what you think, Technoblade,” Tommy spoke before his brain fully processed what he was saying, the grip on his sword already loosening. “I’m so sorry, please don’t be angry. I’m so sorry,” he spoke like a broken record, and the weapon clattered to the ground with a dull thud. 

He dropped down to the ground and began digging the dirt up with his bare hands. Techno just stared, unable to form a sentence. 

“Tommy what are you doing? Stop that-” he finally began speaking, but the hole Tommy was digging was already deep enough to reach his knees when he stood up. Technoblade watched his brother wordlessly, utterly confused. He was aware that the things that filled the room were his – one would have to be stupid to not realize he was being robbed daily. At one point he proposed setting a trap, but Philza, with that distressed, defeated look on his face that Techno has only seen once before, when he was carrying out the limp, cold body of his twin brother from the carnage of the final control room, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and shook his head no. Thus, he never fought back against the thief, and now he understood why Phil didn’t want him to. 

He should have just come to him. He did tell him many times that if he wanted his discs back, he was teaming up with the wrong people. How many hints would he have to drop for Tommy to understand? Pride would be the end of him, and that end seemed closer than further as his sibling began stripping himself from the armor he was wearing, gathering everything from the chests and throwing it into the hole, the metals clanging against each other as Tommy threw in more and more, slowly filling it up with things Techno stopped recognizing after a while.

Then, Tommy paused, an odd look in his eyes. He looked at Techno before his eyebrows furrowed together in sheer agony and he yanked a photo from his back pocket, throwing it onto the pile. It fluttered in the air for a moment, and with a start, the man recognized the two figures on the paper – it was Tommy and Tubbo, laughing together. What was he doing? 

Something pressed into his hand. 

Tommy was by his side now, trembling with a begging look in his eyes. For a second Techno’s heart rate skyrocketed, seeing his sibling in such a state, but then he glanced down, and his heart stopped completely. 

Flint and steel. Explosives. 

_There was a scent of ash and blood in the air, and for a moment Technoblade, son of Philza and brother of Wilbur heard screams and calls of help, followed by hellish roars. Someone was begging for mercy but all he could see was the room that opened up to everyone in the square. His eyes locked with Wilbur’s and for a second he swore he smiled before a sword tore through his chest like a lightning strikes a rotten tree, splitting it apart._

“I’m so sorry, Dream, here you go. I forgot, I swear I forgot, you can blow it up now-” Tommy whispered, and his voice shook like a leaf on the wind, the steel nearly cutting into his hand. Techno shook his head, attempting to get rid of the terrible image that he thought he forgot, and he took the items from Tommy’s hands. The smaller boy smiled slightly, the shake in his body now gentler, localized in his arms and knees. 

Peace was coming. After Dream blows up his stuff, he would laugh and hang out with him, and they will make jokes, maybe build something – it will be a reward, that’s how it always is! 

Technoblade threw the explosives down the corridor he created while he was mining. Tommy’s stomach churned, and he felt both nauseous and hyper-aware at the same time. Techno turned back, and Tommy fell back, his legs refusing to support his body any longer. His sullen eyes darted from the hole to Techno, to the hole and back. His throat was dry, and Tommy could swear it would bleed if he tried to swallow. 

“Dream, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry. I said I’m sorry. Please don’t leave. I’ll be good, I won’t make armor again I promise, just please don’t leave, I don’t want to be alone-” Tommy babbled, tears that he didn’t know fell from his eyes mixing with dirt and snot. He was sobbing, and his heart was so loud he swore the very ground under him was falling apart. “Please, please, please-”   
“Tommy.”   
“I’ll be good! I promise, I swear-”   
“ _Tommy!_ ” 

Technoblade screamed, and Tommy paused, his eyes focusing on the person in front of him, terror filling his irises. He felt bad about raising his voice for a second, before remembering why he shouted in the first place. He approached Tommy slowly, as one would walk towards a wounded animal. The boy didn’t move, his wild eyes tracking every twitch of Techno's muscles, looking for an eventual way out. Technoblade wasn’t sure what Tommy was capable of in that state, but it wasn’t something he could just leave alone, as both a man and a brother. 

He sat down on the ground in front of Tommy, his knees causing a small cloud of dust to form from where they hit the pavement. He put his eye line as equal to his brother’s as he could without towering over him; he needed to be calm and collected. The thievery and break-in had to be set aside. 

Technoblade would not lose another brother. 

“Tommy. It’s Blade,” he spoke, surprising even himself with how gentle his voice sounded. Tommy didn’t move. Still, he didn’t look at the pit anymore. Small victories. “I’ll take you home, okay? We can go meet dad. He missed you.”   
“Dream-”   
“There’s no Dream here.” Techno reached out, and delicately, almost as if he was handling porcelain, grabbed Tommy’s hand. “It’s Blade. Your brother. Dream’s far away.” 

Tommy sat in silence for a while, before his whole body slumped to the floor like a ragdoll. For a moment, Techno panicked, but when Tommy raised both of his hands to put them over his face he breathed out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know for how long they both sat on the floor, but he was already starting to shiver when Tommy spoke again. 

“Why didn’t you visit me?” he said, and his voice sounded so broken and defeated that it almost melted into the frigid air that surrounded them. “I was alone for so long. If you’re my brother, why didn’t you visit me?” he asked, and Techno stared at his boots, not willing to meet Tommy’s taunting gaze.   
“We visited you. Don’t you remember?”   
“You came to laugh at me. That’s not a visit, that’s coming to see an animal in a zoo.”   
“We looked for you, me and dad, when you disappeared.” Techno attempted to explain himself, but Tommy kept staring at him with so much hurt in his eyes that words eluded him. “I- We were worried that you did something really stupid.” he finished and Tommy’s eyes glazed over again, his face turning into a frown. 

“I almost did.” he choked out, and Techno shattered where he sat, the oversized coat suddenly hosting a completely different person, one that looked at him with dead eyes and an eternal ethereal smile. He shook his head and Tommy was back in front of him. 

He didn’t think twice before shuffling closer to his brother and gathering him in his arms like he used to when they were younger, the fireplace crackled and Wilbur played merry tunes from his warm spot by the table in the kitchen. Tommy fought him at the beginning, pushing at his chest and hitting his face with his fists, but he had half of the strength that he used to have, and soon he grew tired, resting his head in the nook of Techno’s neck instead. 

His shoulders shook once, then twice. His lip trembled and his hands tightened against the unfamiliar, gently blue clothes Techno wore, and a sob tore from his throat, breaking down all the walls that he put up over his exile. He was weeping like a child who scraped his knee, and Techno held him gently, rocking him back and forth and he cried out his frustration, pain, and disappointment in everyone he thought he could trust. It ripped out from his chest, where he stored it for all of this time, from behind the façade of a soldier, from the soul of a boy who has been through so much. 

The sun has long set when Tommy stopped crying, his voice rough and scratchy, like a record that has served its time. Techno grabbed his brother and stood up, holding him against his body the same way he used to do when they were children. Tommy didn’t resist – maybe he wasn’t strong enough to, or maybe he actually enjoyed the closeness, touch starved after an eternity of isolation. The scent of mint calmed his heart, and for a second, Techno’s and Tommy’s hearts harmonized, pounding against their ribs in the same pattern, like a finished symphony that haunted the halls of an opera. 

Techno was halfway out of the tunnel, Tommy wrapped up in his cape so he wouldn’t lose any more warmth, when his brother spoke, his voice rumbling against his collarbone.   
“I’m sorry for stealing your shit, Blade,” he said, and Techno only laughed quietly, a ghost of a smile dancing on his face.   
“I wasn’t expecting anything else out of you, honestly.”   
“If I wasn’t so tired, I would have kicked your ass for saying that.”   
“You sure would, Tommy.” 

The moon was out when Techno climbed up the stairs to the residential area to his house, Tommy nodding off in his arms. Phil, who was drinking tea at the table, most likely waiting for Technoblade to return, dropped the cup, the china shattering upon impact with the floor. 

That night they were a family again, and as Phil gently took Tommy from Techno’s arms, the eldest of the brothers swore to find out what Dream has been doing to his sibling for all of this time. 

_And when he would find that out – then he would make the amount of blood spilled during the previous wars look like a tea stain on a birch floor._


	2. Memento Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And to the God was left the judgment of the sinner.

Midnight was not a good time for a visit, Technoblade thought as he sat on a chair that faced the door to his house, foot tapping the floor restlessly to the beat of a song that played only in his head, hummed by thousands of harmonizing voices. He wasn’t happy about the sudden home invasion either; he received the letter the moment he was beginning to prepare himself for the night – he might have been a war machine, but he still needed sleep to function. Still, a letter from Dream himself was a rarity, and usually, he would react to it positively, glad to accept an invitation to spar or hunt together. 

That night, however, Technoblade, the Blood God of Hypixel, son of Philza, was seething. Propped on his sword he awaited a knock on his door, without armor but ready for battle. He had so much to talk about with the so-called God of the SMP, but that had to wait. First, he had to hear him out, like a gracious host he was, then it would be his time to ask questions. 

He was aware that Dream was the root of the problem here – that was also why, after he fell asleep, Techno gently carried Tommy away from the house and to his weapons bunker, having set up a comfortable resting spot there beforehand. The image of his younger brother calling out for Dream to forgive him was still burned into his mind, and Techno’s grip on the sword tightened just the slightest bit as the long-awaited knocks finally echoed throughout the wooden walls of his home. 

“Come in,” he said, and his voice, already a low baritone, was even deeper, carrying a warning that anyone but Dream would have instantly taken to heart. Dream, however, strolled right into Techno’s home, shaking off the snow from the top of his head. With an honest, if not a bit mocking smile, he turned his mask to reveal his face, the usual scarred skin greeting Techno as he strained his eyes to see the details of Dream’s figure in the torchlight. 

“Good to see you Technoblade! Sorry for being late, I had a little mob problem on the way – your home seems to attract zombies!” Dream laughed and leaned against the wall, his cunning green eyes focused at the man in front of him, who returned the stare tenfold. “I’ve actually never been here, so-”   
“Make yourself at home. You seem like you came with business.” Techno interrupted him, and for a second, he swore that a look of annoyance flashed through Dream’s face. Good.   
“Well, you seem like you don’t want to have a friendly chat.”   
“You would be correct.”   


There was silence in the room, broken only by the crackling of the torches and the eventual groan of a mob behind the window. The two men stayed in that wordless exchange of glares for a moment, before Dream sighed, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.   
“I’ll get to the point then.” He muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose in pure frustration. “Tommy left exile. L’Manbug thinks that he’s dead, but I know otherwise. I’ve been out and about looking for him for the last couple of days, so if you have any idea where he could have gone, I’d appreciate it.”   
Techno glared at Dream. He looked tired, worn from travels, that much was true. Still, there was not an ounce of compassion or actual worry emanating from him, and it rang every emergency bell in his mind. The voices in his head were getting more and more annoyed; and for once in his life, he agreed with all of them.   
“Dream, I’m going to be honest with you,” he spoke slowly, and Dream’s face twisted even more. “I don’t think I want to give you any information.” 

“ _Technoblade, you owe me._ ” the guest answered, spreading his hands in front of him in silent exuberance. “I saved your life! I gave you a map that would help you get a totem of undying – how can you refuse to help me in such a situation.” Dream sneered, and Technoblade stood up from where he was sitting, the sword now at his side, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.   
“I do owe you, yes,” Techno spoke, and the air in the room was cold, colder than the night outside. “And I would be more than happy to help you, but I have some... Questions first. If you allow me.” he asked, smiling politely, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

Dream smiled back.   
“Anything for you, partner.” 

“Good. Good.” Techno sighed and switched his bodyweight onto his dominant leg. “Let me ask you this question then-” he readjusted the grip on his sword, and Dream’s hand twitched, his muscles urging him to reach for the axe that rested on his back. “-what did you do to my brother, Dream?”   
The man in question chuckled nervously.   
“I don’t follow,” he said, glancing around the room. The only way out was the door behind him, but hell would have him first before he ran from this meeting; both pride and urgency of his request kept him rooted in place. 

“I asked-” Techno took a step forward, and Dream’s body went into full alert, adrenaline spreading throughout his body. “-why does my brother cry your name out in fear as he throws all his wordily belongings into a pit he digs with his own hands until they bleed and then ask me to burn it, all while not seeing mine but your face in front of his eyes?” he raised his sword, the sharp tip pointed right at Dream’s throat who didn’t flinch, but his expression darkened, the smile no longer present on his face. “Why does he shake in fear when I mention Logstedshire? And speaking of which, why is it blown up? Don’t think I wasn’t there. I saw everything.” His voice grew more and more coarse as he pressed the sword against Dream’s skin. The man on the receiving end didn’t speak. His eyes spoke for him – cold and analyzing.   
“So he’s here.” he finally muttered, gently wrapping his hand around the blade, attempting to position it away from him.   
“Not anymore. No one is that dumb, Dream.” Techno yanked the sword back, slicing open Dream’s palm in a swift movement, causing the guest to hiss as he clenched his fist, attempting to stop the bleeding. Blood dripped on the wooden floor, leaving stains that were going to be hell to remove in the future. “Don’t change the subject.” 

“Listen, listen-” Dream laughed nervously. “He had a set of rules, and he disobeyed them. I just did what I was supposed to.” 

The voices in Techno’s head screamed and tore at his brain, and he felt blood on his tongue as he bit on it to keep himself composed. That wasn’t just enforcing rules. That was abuse, and Tommy’s sullen eyes and his cries as he slept spoke volumes about what he has been through. Techno’s grip on the sword tightened until the knuckles in his hand turned white. Tommy never told him the full extent of what happened to him during his exile, but from what he heard from Phil over the evening tea, when Tommy cried - and he cried only when someone was near, when he was alone, he was apathetic and silent – he sometimes babbled, through snot and tears, about how Dream would be the only one to visit him, about him missing Dream, about the things he did with Dream and about the things Dream did to him when he didn’t listen. It made Techno’s blood boil. He was using Tommy just like L’Manburg used him – for their own purposes and entertainment. Was he taking his anger out on his brother, anger that stemmed from him being abandoned by his friends? 

No one deserved that. Not his family. Especially not Tommy, who was a literal child soldier with trauma of death twice as heavy on his shoulders. 

“Dream,” he said, lowering his sword, and Dream’s body relaxed just for a moment, before Techno spoke again, his body falling back onto the chair. “Fine. I’ll tell you where Tommy is.”   
“I knew you’d come around. Team Chaos, right?” he laughed, the bleeding hand that was halfway towards his axe now back at his side, bringing red rain to the floorboards.   
“I have a condition, though.”   
“Of course, anything for you Blade.” 

Techno smiled, and the temperature in the room dropped even lower, to the point that Dream could swear he saw his own breath swirling in front of his face. 

“Duel me for it. For the information, I mean,” he asked politely, switching the handle of the sword from one hand to the other. Dream’s eyebrows shot up.   
“What? That’s a really heavy price for just a piece of useless information, Technoblade.”   
“I take the matters of my family very seriously, Dream. Information of Tommy’s whereabouts has its weight in diamonds – no, netherite even.” 

Dream shuffled in place. There was no reason for him to say no, really – he still had two lives, and Technoblade was still recovering from the execution, both mentally and physically. He had the upper hand, and he was aware of that; so why was it that he was so afraid to say yes?   
His ego won. 

“I see. Fine then, let’s go outside.” 

With a creak of wood Technoblade and Dream left the house, walking out into the night, where the midnight air created crystals in the air and animals fell silent at the sheer amount of bloodlust that spread across the freshly-fallen snow. Dream finally grabbed his axe, readjusting the grip in his dominant hand, making sure it laid comfortable within his non-injured palm. Techno already had his sword in his hand, and the hand that held it twitched in anticipation of the bloodshed it would witness. The voices in his head were starting to get unbearable; but they were very welcomed at that moment, and for the first time in a long time Technoblade welcomed their screeches and wails with open hands, letting them fuel his anger. 

“No shields?”   
“Fuck no.” 

Dream laughed loudly, twirling the axe in his hand like a baton. 

“It’s not like you to swear, Blade.” he taunted, and without a warning, he lunged himself at Techno, who easily parried the strike to the left, his bloodshot eyes never breaking the eye contact with his opponent. Techno spun the sword in his hand, drawing his hand for a thrust. Dream spotted the movement and jumped back his soles creating marks in the snow where he skidded over the fresh surface.   
“It isn’t like you to dodge, Dream.” Techno shot back, letting out a long breath and untensing all of the muscles in his body. Something pushed him forward.   
He attacked. 

Dream instantly raised the axe in front of him to stop the blade from splitting him open, and the iron handle groaned under the sheer pressure of Techno’s strike. Seeing that his attack didn’t connect with flesh, he retracted his sword, going instead for a long sweep with his leg, hoping to knock his opponent off-balance; it left him open from the top, and Dream took that chance, swinging the axe down right at Techno’s clavicle. It took only a slight movement of his body to dodge that, and Techno was back to his full height, twisting his body so the sword would reach Dream’s back. The blade caught material, but the slash was too shallow, and with a quick roll the opponent was away, leaving a thin trail of blood where Techno managed to nick him. 

Dream was thinking – it was so obvious to know when he was calculating; his brows would furrow and his lips would press together into a thin line. On the other side of the clearing, Technoblade was seeing red. The voices were giving him quite a bit of good hints, and he was surprised at how courteous they were in their whispers. Under the guise of darkness, he glanced in the direction of the bunker. No one was there; Tommy was still safe. 

Creaking of snow, heavy breathing, Dream was coming. He ran at full speed towards Techno, his body low. He was going for Techno’s legs, and the man placed his sword carefully to deflect the strike which he knew he couldn’t dodge. The strike never came, however, and Dream extended one of his legs, kicking up snow that landed in Techno’s eyes, and he cursed again, now blinded. Dream was still moving – without vision, he was completely and utterly screwed. 

_‘From the right!’_   
_‘The right!’_   
_‘Block on the right!’_

As if on impulse he raised his weapon to the right, tensing all of his muscles, and the strike connected, rippling through his body like a drop of water in a puddle.   
“What the fuck-!” 

_‘Go low!’_   
_‘His legs are open!’_   
_‘To the left and down!’_

He listened. His body groaned as he shifted his body weight, and the attack connected again, clanging against metal, and then striking flesh. Dream roared in pain. The sword stopped on a bone, and Techno pushed the weapon upwards, slicing away a good part of the muscle in this opponent’s leg. He could smell the iron, and he could hear Dream’s labored breathing as he scooted back, switching his body weight onto the unwounded leg. Still, the bloodlust didn’t disperse, and the moment Techno blinked away the muddy water in his eyes, Dream was on him, delivering a slash after slash, forcing him to go on the defensive. 

The axe nicked his side as it slipped off the blade, and Techno hissed, bringing a smile to Dream’s face. The Blood God bled for him, and it brought an unreasonable amount of joy to his brain. He took a big swing with his weapon, aiming for the artery at his opponent’s neck. 

It was just a bit too wide, and Techno took the chance. 

The kick to the Dream’s chest was quick but effective, and Dream stumbled, the weight of his own weapon throwing him off-balance. The thin layer of snow and ice crumbled underneath his boots, and the hunter fell, his back hitting the stone that lined the pit and knocking all the air out of his lungs. His leg throbbed in pain, the blood spurted onto the gray surface, and his vision was blurry – still, the moment Techno made his way to the pit, he would take his axe and take out his ankles, leaving him vulnerable and open for a quick strike that would end everything. 

The sword was through his neck before he could even reach for his axe. 

He choked, his hands tightening around the blade that was stripping him of his blood, attempting to tear it away; blood was making it hard to breathe, and he coughed, an abundance of the red liquid spraying out of his mouth. It landed on Techno’s clothes, but he didn’t mind. He watched Dream writhe in agony with a cold, calculating stare. He was watching a man die, and he was doing so with great satisfaction. 

Dream’s eyes were already dulling over when the hulking mass over him leaned near his face, close enough for the dying man to make out the animal-like features Techno took on when fighting. 

“I assume this is my win?” he asked, already not expecting an answer. Dream writhed a bit as the blade in his throat shifted, but no matter how hard he tried to speak, only a gurgle came out. Techno smiled for a moment before his expression darkened, and with a quick flick of his hand, he yanked the sword out, causing a pained wheeze to erupt from the fallen man. “Good. Let me tell you something then, and you better listen for these last seconds of life you have left,” he muttered, his voice melting into the cries of animals in the distance. “I know that this isn’t your last life. If it was, I would have taken, much, much longer to end you. So, when you inevitably come back like a fly that circles back around a rotten corpse, I don’t want you anywhere near my family.” 

“G-ga-”   
“ _Silence,_ ” Techno ordered and brought the sword down onto Dreams knee. He ignored the pained cry and continued to speak. “My father, my brothers – if I even see you near them, I will do the exact same thing I did today, but I will keep healing you, then hurting you, and then healing you again until you will shed enough blood for me to paint the entirety of L’Manburg in. Understand?” 

Dream nodded. 

“Great. Now that this is done-” Techno attempted to stand up but was surprised by a piercing pain in his shin. He glanced down; a dagger was stuck in his flesh. Dream grinned for the last time before his eyes dulled over fully, and his hand fell limp, disintegrating into a luminescent green powder that would mix with the wind and bring him to his home. “-of course, he wouldn’t just go without a fight.” Technoblade sighed and pulled the small blade out, quickly bandaging the wound with a cloth he had in his inventory. 

For now, his house would be at peace. The voices in his head thanked him for the bloody offering, and he thanked them for help; perhaps Wilbur was right – there was a way to live with them, he just had to look for them. Where Dream’s corpse used to be was now only a puddle of hot, steaming blood, that was quickly being covered by fresh snow. By morning there would be no sign of the struggle – nature would take its course and clean up the intruders’ mess. 

Techno rested for a moment before he carried Tommy back home, careful not to wake him up. When he looked up at his house in the distance, as the northern lights gently danced across the sky, for the first time in a long, long time, Technoblade felt at home. 

And this time, nothing would be taking it away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading "detrimentum"! It's by far my most popular work on AO3, and I couldn't be happier about you enjoying it as much as I do!  
> I decided to write a little epilogue for the story, as smp!Dream deserves a little bit of a blade, you know? I think you can see that I'm terrible at writing battle scenes - still, it was really fun to write, and will definitely remain in the back of my mind for a long time.  
> If you enjoyed "detrimentum", take a look at "Visions of Gideon", which is my very dramatized Technoblade backstory project; it's kept in a similar style - maybe you'll find it fun too!
> 
> For now, this story comes to a close. Thank you so much for loving it, and thank you for supporting me.


End file.
